Page 79 of Feathers and Scales

He met Izzy’s drawn eyes in the rearview mirror. The conversation they had earlier played out in his head again. “They’re after me,” Izzy had said. “Without my presence, you might as well be looking for the rarest element, astatine. With me there, they may be more willing to present themselves. I won’t be a distraction to you. You tell me what to do and I will act, no questions asked.”

Daxton hated that she was right, but if listening to him kept her safe, Izzy wouldn’t object. Though it terrified him that if she believed her solution more sensible, she wouldn’t heed his words. But she’dgrabbed his hands and said, “Trust me to do the right thing, as I will trust you.”

Daxton sighed harshly. “On my back at all times. Let’s go.”

Spirit energies as low as the grassy static of insects tunneled in and out of his brain as Daxton and Izzy left the SUV and entered the main entrance. Two Illusion firefighters followed them. Fire alarms blared and lights circled the room. The open lobby with a receiving desk and waiting area was bare of any humans.

Izzy’s human warmth pressed reassuringly against Daxton’s back as they crossed the linoleum floors to the door marked for stairs. When he opened it, saccharine-sweet spirit energy trickled up from below.

Daxton held up his palm to stop Izzy. “Simon’s energy is coming from below us.”

“Maybe he’s in the parking garage.”

Daxton nodded.

Concrete had a way of blocking his senses. It explained why Daxton couldn’t detect him from outside. The hair on the back of his neck rose. The enemy seemed to know another dragon weakness.

He trusted Serephina and Jamal to stop the Tattered One upstairs. He needed to find Simon and stop the other one.

Down the stairs, they entered the darkness. Unease trickled down Daxton’s spine. An enclosed space like this was the worst scenario for his dragon. He stepped forward, and a fluorescent bulb flickered, lighting a small portion of the parking garage.

Damn it.Simon’s spirit energy came from the far right. With each step, a motion detection light illuminated the area ahead of him. Barely any cars littered the space. Izzy quietly followed him. The stale, pungent aroma of alcohol clung to the walls. His Insight caught subtle impressions of acid, metal, and fear. A human presence filtered through—someone was hidingdown there.

Anxiety spiked along the link, and Izzy grabbed Daxton’s arm. She pointed toward a brown delivery truck parked haphazardly between two cement columns. Someone had left the back door propped open.

“Wrapped. Packed. And shipped. That’s what the puppet said,” she whispered.

What was the Tattered Ones’ plan?

Daxton held up his hand, telling Izzy to stay.

“Hello,” Daxton yelled, trying to home in on the human’s scent.

He strode to the cement column closest to the truck, hoping to activate a motion detector to illuminate the other side of the vehicle. As he passed the truck, the stench of rotten onions—no, body odor—overwhelmed him.

Midstep, a glint in the darkness caught his eye.

He dodged backward as a male’s arm swung at his face. Glass shattered. Izzy gasped. Shards of shrapnel and liquid sprayed into the air. The assailant held a cracked whiskey bottle in his bloody hand. In a blur, Daxton grabbed the man’s wrist with enough force to break it. Daxton plastered the man’s nose against the wet cement wall. The brown uniform gave him away as the truck driver, and his name tag had read Collin.

“Let go of me, you bastard,” Collin choked out. Spittle hit the wall.

“Stop struggling,” Daxton growled into his ear and hit a pressure point on his wrist. The broken bottle clattered to the floor. He didn’t loosen his hold as Collin cursed and struggled.

“I’m here to help.Stop fighting me.” Daxton forced dominance into his voice using his dragon energy.

“Who are you?” Awareness flashed across Collin’s face, as if he had woken up for the first time. Tears welled in his bloodshot eyes. “No, no, you can’t be here. Go.”

“What’s going on?” Izzy asked.

Collin sobbed. Daxton released his hold enough to allow Collin to breathe but kept himself between him and Izzy.

“Where’s Simon?” she asked.

Collin’s wailing forced Daxton back another step. “He…I…set off the timer when I saw you. Metal, gunpowder, brimstone, and fire. Shut Simon up and teach her not to care.” He spoke the mantra in a trancelike state.

Daxton’s dragon bristled.

“Where?” Izzy squeezed Collin’s arm. Her wide eyes skewered the man. His sobbing prevented him from speaking. She shook him. “How long do we have?”